


Skin in the Game

by writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle (twoandahalfslytherins)



Series: God Help and Forgive Me [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Post-Room-Where-It-Happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandahalfslytherins/pseuds/writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron had tried to warn Alex that Jefferson and Madison would be hard to convince.</p><p>and now he's hearing rumors on one side that the deed has been done, that the bank has been secured. And from other sources entirely that Alexander Hamilton has been seen wandering listlessly.</p><p>Worry drives him to go after the man, even though they're rivals now, and in the end, he gets more than he bargained for</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin in the Game

The rumors on the street are hard to miss, even for someone like Aaron who keeps his nose clean.

But despite no one saying anything, no one is trying to hide it either, and perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to find him.

He might have missed him if he hadn’t of been looking, but there was Alexander Hamilton, curled in on himself just far enough into the small batch of trees to be mostly hidden. 

Aaron glances around before walking forward, doing his best to disappear into the foliage without drawing attention to himself. They are not friends, not anymore, but who does Alex really have?

John Laurens is dead.

Lafayette is in France and Aaron hasn’t the faintest idea where Hercules Mulligan is these days. He wonders if Alex knows. If Alex would reach out if he could, but there is only so much that can be done when letters are the main form of communication.

Well, except rumors that is.

“Hamilton, perhaps you could join me inside,” He says quietly.

The eyes that look up at him are too wide, too open, and Aaron resists the urge to flinch back. Alexander has never been particularly guarded, too fond of wearing his opinions on his sleeve, but he’s never looked at Aaron like this before.

“Aaron Burr, Sir,” the voice is surprisingly light, more hysterical than sad, “ I’m afraid I must decline your invitation, Sir.”

Burr sighs, “You’ll catch your death out here.”

Aaron almost misses it, the ‘all the better’ that Hamilton murmurs.

“Up we go, “ Aaron says, leaning down to catch the other man under the armpits to drag him up, “either to my house or the pub. Whichever you might be more amiable too. I will not, however, allow you to stay any longer in this cold."

“Why?” Alex looks disgruntled at the manhandling, shaking off Burr’s touch when he’s standing.

Aaron knows he shouldn’t say it, but he has nothing else to say, and if nothing else maybe Alex will understand that he knows, “I understand you have a win to celebrate. More so, you know I am a soul of discretion… should you be in a less than celebratory mood.”

The way Alex mouths discretion makes him uneasy, “I suppose I shouldn’t be so reluctant to have a drink with such a man. If you’re opening up your doors, I am would be much obliged to accept the kindness.”

It’s too carefully said. Aaron knows this and still he nods at Alex to follow him out of the woods. They walk together, Aaron’s eyes carefully searching the crowd for anyone who might be reporting back to Jefferson. But no one seems interested, especially because Alexander’s head is down and his mouth shut for once. It seems likely that they may actually make it out of this without anyone saying anything that they shouldn’t.

If not, Aaron will plead curiosity. It isn’t even necessarily that far from the truth.

Alex has drank six fingers worth of scotch, from the fancy bottle that Burr mostly keeps around for the few times he is forced to entertain Jefferson and Madison, when it happens. Their conversation has been light up until this point, dancing around the point when he notices the man leaning forward slightly.

He had written it off as inebriation, as a matter of balance but then Alex’s hand is next to his elbow on the chair and there are lips on his. He pushes the man back, startled.

There’s something about the look of satisfaction on Alex’s face that infuriates him, “Sir!”

“I’d much rather be calling you that,” again his voice has that almost hysterical tilt, despite there being absolutely nothing amusing about this situation.

Part of him still can’t believe it’s happening, “Hamilton, you aren’t of right mind.”

Here Alex openly laughs, “Right enough mind to know you’d either take what was offered or hit me. Either way, I’m happy to receive.”

“Alexander,” Aaron tries to keep his voice more forbidding than concerned, “What has gotten into you, good man?”

Dark eyes track the tongue that swipes across Alex’s bottom lip before he speaks, “You were the one who warned me… What did you say? That they’d be… merciless.” There’s a curl to Alex’s lip and then he finishes, “I want to feel something new.”

He should say no. Aaron knows this, but Alex is leaning in again, slower this time, and he lets it happen. There’s a hand pulling his own up, forcing it to tangle in Hamilton’s hair as the man straddles him. 

The tongue he’d been watching so intently is now running against his own and Aaron opens beneath the touch, allowing Alexander to control the kiss. It is the least he can do for his conscious.

There are fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt sleeves, and Aaron allows himself to be stripped, only breaking the kiss when they must in order to get it off. Alex takes advantage of the space to pull his own shirt sleeves off as well, and Aaron allows himself a moment of greed and leans in to suck a dusty nipple into his mouth, fingertips drifting along his fellow politician’s ribs, rubbing his thumb against the occasional scar. 

Alex grants him this, sighing pleasantly for a moment before pulling back to kiss him again. Aaron leans up and into the kiss, trying to stay quiet as nails scratch his back, almost definitely leaving marks. He would have complained if it wasn't feeling so nice.

The man shifted, grinding down for a moment, and Aaron rests his forehead against his shoulder as he hardens further. The noises coming of Alex’s mouth when it’s not otherwise occupied are downright sinful. Whimpers and breathy noises, almost too much for how far they’ve gone, but leave it to Alex not understand the idea of restraint in any arena.

Still, he can’t stop himself for reaching up to grip at the man’s hips, whether to increase contact or to try and take control he isn’t sure. Alex repays the action by leaning down to lick a stripe up Aaron’s neck, sucking his earlobe into his mouth when he got there.

“You’re always complaining about my mouth, Aaron, “ Alex murmurs in between nips, “Perhaps… you can enjoy it for once.”

In case Aaron might have missed his meaning, Alex is sliding down between his knees, nuzzling the bulge that is apparent through his pants, making careful eye contact.

And oh god, those eyes are still so open and how is Aaron supposed to say no to that? He clenches the arms on his chair, lifting his hips to help Alex remove the last pieces of his clothing, bottom lip caught in his teeth.

“Beautiful,” the word is a warm breath against his cock, “At least part of you is willing to take a stand.”

Aaron can’t even complain because he’s being sucked into that snarky mouth, and his eyes are closing. There are no more choices to be made, he’s handed himself over to Alex’s tender care, and he’s happy to just experience it now.

Alex’s tongue swirls around his head, a teasing presence before he presses kisses along Aaron’s cock. When he makes his way to the base the man runs his tongue along the tender junction between thigh and pelvis, one hand rolling his balls at the same time, almost too much stimulation for him to handle.

Part of him wonders how many times Alex has done this, wonders which rumors are true. There had been those of the more believable variety, that Alex engaged in alternative activities as a soldier to blow off steam. The usual targets of those rumors included Laurens and Lafayette, and it wasn’t hard to understand why considering how free they’d all been with one another.

Of course, there were nastier rumors, about Washington, about the real reason why the man had wanted Alex far away from the battlefield and more on hand. Aaron had even entertained them back then, still bitter over being ignored.

But then Aaron can’t think about anything, because Alex is testing out his own gag reflex, forcing his head down as far as it will go and pulling back to gasp before diving back in. It takes him three tries, and Aaron’s pelvis changing angles, before he’s able to accomplish his goal.

It’s warm and tight, and the most erotic thing that Aaron’s ever seen, because Alex is still making eye contact as he works his throat around his cock. When Aaron moans openly, Alex comes back just enough to take a breath before going down again. There's a challenge in those eyes, an almost pride in having made Aaron come undone. 

This is how he sets his own punishing pace, and Aaron keeps his hands on the chair to resist the urge to grab the man’s head. He doesn’t trust himself to not just fuck Alex’s face like this, doesn’t trust himself not to teach Alex a lesson about biting off more than he can chew.

Especially when the thing in Alex’s mouth right now is so precious to him.

There are fingers digging into his thighs, and Aaron tries to call out, tries to warn Alex what is about to happen, but the man gives a minor shake of his head, swallowing and milking Aaron’s cock as he shoots.

When Aaron relaxes back into the chair Alex finally pulls off, giving his cock an almost sweet kiss before standing up.

“Shall I?” Aaron asks, waving his hand hoping his meaning is clear.

Alex leans down to brush lips for a moment, before shaking his head, “I’ll see myself out.”

There’s something suspicious about that, but Aaron is far too sated to argue as Alex dresses, only growing worried when the man pauses by the door to murmur, “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this here.  
> but I also feel really bad about only updating once both yesterday and today. (some shitty shitty shit happened and I don't feel comfortable writing for like... Herc Dad Friend or the Girl Scout fic when down. and I'd rather Non-Stop not get any darker.)  
> so uh, enjoy some canon era sin. I was experimenting with writing in present tense again as well as the canon-verse.


End file.
